


Young God

by sarkywoman



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Dark Rhys, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5629420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarkywoman/pseuds/sarkywoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys finds himself drawn into a power more intoxicating than the one he was born with. Torn between two lives, he struggles to remember who has earned his loyalty. Siren!Rhys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shingo_the_pest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shingo_the_pest/gifts).



> Set vaguely in Borderlands 2 with some references to plot events, but deviates towards the end.

The play of colours in the cosmos never fail to draw Rhys' attention. He always ends up at the window when he comes to Jack's office. He looks from star to star and finally at the swirl of vivid colours around the odd tear in space. It's beautiful. He wonders what it would feel like to touch. How quick it would burn. 

A shot rings out loudly, ending the background noise of voices. A conversation Rhys should have been listening to. 

He turns back – slow, nonchalant – and sees one of the Hyperion employees on the ground in a spreading pool of red. The guy's buddy – even buddy is a strong word for this place – trembles and backs away. 

Jack sets his gun back down on his desk and leans back in his chair. Unaffected. It's all just business. He only has two motivational tools in his repertoire and one of them is violence. Psychotic, unfettered, unpredictable violence.

“Now.” He smiles shark-like at the remaining underling. The mask only makes it worse, doesn't hide the bloodlust and madness. “You're going to see this as the day you got your shit together. The day Handsome Jack taught you a valuable lesson about competence and hard work. You're gonna go and sort this mess out. I know you're going to do that and do it without complaint, because the success of your project is so very important to me. I don't have time for you to fail. You understand me?”

The underling nods frantically, so messed up with emotion that he falls to his knees nodding. The sight makes Jack chuckle. Rhys knows there's a faint smile on his own lips when Jack glances over.

“Yes Handsome Jack, sir. I will. I'll have this sorted in no time and I'm so sorry, so grateful--”

“So go do it. Stop wasting my time with pretty words.” Jack lolls his head to the right to look at Rhys. “I have better people on the payroll for that.”

Grovelling and snivelling the man manages to somehow half-run and half-crawl his way out of the room. 

Handsome Jack beckons.

Rhys walks over. “Is this project really so important?” He asks as he throws a leg over Jack's lap and straddles him on the big chair. The Hyperion throne.

“Don't ask stupid questions, baby. Everything I do is important. This little piece of the project that those morons are wrecking up? It's part of the big Pandora picture.”

“Pandora means so much to you. I can't quite understand.”

Not for the first time, his wilful ignorance makes Jack sigh. “It's the beginning. We're gonna rule the galaxy like gods. The eridium and the vaults, they're just the start of everything.”

*

Jack isn't wrong. He rarely is, for better or for worse. 

Rhys' little piece of the big picture started before Hyperion, with eridium and strange women and dark plans. On Helios it started with his tattoos. With Handsome Jack stopping in the hallway so suddenly that his groupies flinched and held themselves still as statues. 

He had glared at Rhys in a way that seemed to suggest airlocks or gunfire in the near future. Rhys had been tense, ready for everything to go to hell as the man stormed up to him. With the station's thermostats broken the place was already burning up so he was happy to blame the temperature for the sweat on his brow as Handsome Jack got into his personal space.

“What's with the arm?”

A sudden barked question had left Rhys stunned. He had glanced down at the Hyperion cybernetic as if he had never seen it before. “I went in for the cybernetics programme. I--”

“No, cupcake,” Jack had said slowly. “The _other_ one.”

Rhys had his jacket off and sleeves rolled up in the unusual heat. He shouldn't have. He looked over the tattoos. “Oh, I... I like sirens.”

With that weak, stammered explanation, he watched Jack's face. The man's grip was like a vice when he took Rhys' wrist in one hand and looked closer. 

Helios held its stifling breath.

“Yeah? Me too.”

His smile was nothing like the posters. It caught in Rhys' heart like a fish hook, tearing through him and pulling him ever closer.

*

Life is good as Jack's right-hand man.

“You have to be my right-hand man because your right-hand is so much cooler than the left.”

Jack says that, but it's the left arm that fascinates him. Rhys loses count of the time spent with a tongue tracing his tattoos, with lips kissing the dark circles and lines on his skin. They go all the way down to his hip.

The cybernetic arm is a known quantity, familiar and fond. Jack turns it this way and that, pats it and prods Rhys' neural port. Stares into Rhys' ECHO eye and makes comments about Hyperion property. 

“You're half-made by Hyperion. You belong to me, princess.”

But Rhys' tattoos were not drawn by Hyperion. Every time Jack's gaze is on them Rhys knows he's thinking of sirens and their mysteries.

In bed he tells Rhys he's 'as sexy as a siren' while he traces the lines gently with fingers that strangle lesser men.

“You get these done on Eden-5?”

“Yeah. Don't ask me the name of the place though. It was years back.” Rhys makes himself sound idly contemplative when he says, “I wonder if the place is still there...”

It isn't. It never was.

But the lies are so small that Rhys doesn't feel bad for telling them. He rolls onto his front and Jack moves to cover him, his skin hot against Rhys' naked back. When he speaks his breath caresses the back of Rhys' neck.

“I should get some the same. We can pretend to be the first male sirens.”

Rhys smiles into the pillow, amused for reasons Jack can't ever know.

Jack doesn't follow through on his plan for more tattoos. He doesn't need to. Why would he need to feign greatness like that? Wherever he goes doors open and people fall about themselves to give him what he wants. Handsome Jack doesn't need to be a siren. He's already a god. Hyperion worships him, Pandora fears him. He's the head of this cult of wealth and power and self-gratification. Their religion has no rules, just a terrifying god that the peons sacrifice themselves for over and over again.

In shuttles they cruise at low altitude over the waste that is Pandora. Jack points out landmarks that Rhys pretends to see for the first time. It looks even worse from above.

“Like a shit-stain,” he mutters.

Beside him, Jack laughs loudly, his arm tightening around Rhys' narrow shoulders. “You got that right, baby. Good job I'm here to clean up, right?”

A bandit camp has been causing trouble for one of the outposts. Rhys stands back and watches his lover participate in a massacre. He looks away from the fire and the corpses and tries to deafen himself to the screams. Under his sleeve his tattoos itch. They often do on Pandora. No doubt something to do with the proximity of eridium.

Through a cloud of smoke and a pool of blood Jack walks back to him. A bloodthirsty king marching back from his battle to his queen. Rhys doesn't shy away from the blood. He never does these days. He had been squeamish once, when he first came to Pandora. But that was a lifetime ago.

In this lifetime he is the prized possession of a psychotic god and he will get everything he wants as long as he isn't too sensitive. 

Another life runs parallel to this one, calling for his attention, but Rhys ignores it as much as he can. He throws himself into Hyperion work and enjoys the perks of his position. He stands behind Jack's shoulder and watches people cower and grovel and beg for salvation. Admittedly, it's usually salvation from Jack himself that they want.

People start to approach Rhys for favours. Offer bribes in exchange for a word in Jack's ear. Rhys tells Jack and they play along. Divinity bleeds over, gets into Rhys' skin and he watches as doors open and people fall over in their rush to get out of his path. It's a different power to the one he holds under his skin, but more intoxicating. It isn't his own, of course, it comes entirely from Jack. 

That should matter more to him than it does. After all, it means it cannot last. Handsome Jack, Hyperion, Helios, none of it can last. Rhys is supposed to make sure of that.

Instead he runs a hand over the rump of a diamond pony and laughs with incredulity at Jack's extravagance. He bends over Jack's desk and lets the man fuck him with rough abandon. He watches Jack vent his rage on people as if they aren't real, as if they don't have families. He ignores things that he is supposed to pass on to interested parties. He gives into the lie and lives the dream.

*

The encryption on the call is alarmingly clumsy when it comes through. Rhys is lucky to see it while he's alone in his little office beside Jack's. He checks the door is locked and decides to take it, as much as he would like to carry on ignoring his other life.

He loads it up on his arm, holding his palm out for the blue light to fan out from his palm in the dim room. Lilith's face appears. She isn't smiling.

“Intel's all but dropped off, killer. You having trouble?”

“A little,” Rhys says. It isn't totally a lie.

“That's funny,” Lilith replies, with a serious expression that suggests anything but. “Because you're closer to Jack than ever. There should be a flood of info.”

“He's not the trusting type.”

“So try harder. You're not there to party, Rhys. If you can't get us anything useful then we could use your help here.”

“Alright!” He snaps. “It's not like I'm not trying. It isn't as though there's a secret scheme every day that I can just ask about. Things are in progress and I have to find stuff out piece by piece and--”

“Quit it. We've no time for excuses. Do what you're there to do or get your scrawny ass back to Pandora.”

She cuts the feed and the room dims without the blue light. Rhys feels suddenly exposed, thrust back into a role he had almost forgotten about. Once he had been full of excitement for the mission. Now he feels nothing but a sense of revulsion. 

*

Rhys' new life continues to go well. If it were the only one he had he would consider himself the happiest man alive. But what would he be without the other life? Without this power that thrums under his skin and reassures him of his special place in the world? Assuming he would even make it to Helios, he would probably be another mindless fanboy, stumbling blind after the Hyperion saviour. Playing finger-gun fights and arguing with that jackass Vasquez.

Nobody dares argue with him now. 

He adores Jack, but his secret ensures Rhys never feels less than him. He enjoys Jack's confidence, the foolhardy narcissism that empowers him to break and bend everyone around him. Rhys bends willingly and lets Jack think it is the same. The same adoration and worship that he gets from everyone else, just in a prettier package.

But then one night Jack says he loves him. Mutters it as he's falling asleep as if it's nothing. Rhys spends days turning it over in his mind before returning the sentiment and getting a grin in return.

Jack introduces Rhys to his daughter.

Her name is Angel and Rhys has heard of her in an entirely different context. The Angel AI, helping the resistance vault hunters down on Pandora. She's a siren and he should have known that. She smiles when she sees him and Rhys expects to feel Jack's gun against the back of his head. There's no way she doesn't know everything. Jack even says proudly, “My Angel sees everything that happens on Helios and Pandora.”

Angel smiles at Rhys and says nothing of Lilith or sirens or secrets. Jack asks her questions about Sanctuary, about Maya and Lilith, about the current state of Pandora. She provides a steady stream of data, so thorough that Rhys isn't sure who she is betraying.

The room pulses with eridium and makes him light-headed. Makes his tattoos burn.

When he leaves the place with his life and secrets intact, Rhys realises that Jack has more than one enemy in his inner circle. He's a man who trusts and loves no one, but has made an exception for his siren daughter and Rhys.

Both of whom are traitors.

Rhys tries to shake the feelings of guilt. Reminds himself that Jack isn't a man worth loving. He's a psychopath. A monster. 

He gets back to the life that he's enjoying more, the one of fast shuttles, fine dining and promises of galactic domination.

Reality can't top it.

*

“We have concerns, Rhys.”

Unlike Lilith, Maya keeps her voice gentle. She can be as terrifying as Lilith, or more so, but for this conversation she talks like Rhys is a spooked child. 

Maybe because this is an intervention, rather than a conversation.

“It's probably time for you to come back to Pandora. Angel is providing useful intelligence for us. I doubt there's anything you can find out that she won't be able to access. We're not entirely sure she can be trusted, but...” 

Maya trails off, leaving the rest unspoken. _But neither can you._

“I'm not compromised,” Rhys lies. They didn't find out Angel was working for Jack until she implemented a plan to take out Sanctuary. They still don't know her true identity. He should have told them. He should tell them now.

“You sure about that? Moxxi's been saying Jack eats up pretty boys like you for breakfast. And, not judging here but... you've gotten really close to him.”

“I thought it would help. You know, the mission?”

“Yeah, I know the mission. And I know that the mission hasn't benefited from your promotion in Hyperion. In fact, the closer you get to Jack, the less we get. You must realise how that looks. People are coming up with worrying theories, Rhys.”

He's always liked Maya. Sirens ought to stick together and she knows as little about them as him, if not less. She's easy to talk to. Usually.

“Maybe you're right. But I've got something big waiting to pay off. It'd probably be a good idea for me to get out straight after anyway, so give me a little time. It'll be worth it.”

She nods. “Sure.”

There's no pay off. Rhys has been hoarding information for months and giving them scraps. He feels bad about it...

...but feels worse about giving them anything at all.

*

It all goes bad quickly. 

Rhys begs Jack not to go down to Pandora. The team aren't looping him in on their plans but he can feel a net being prepared. They think they're ready. Maybe they are. He can't figure out who he's more scared for – Jack or the group he considers his allies and friends?

“We can deal with them from Helios,” he says, imploring as Jack gathers his things together for the trip. “They're only a few Vault Hunters, we'll launch some moonshots until we hit them.”

That won't work though and Jack knows it.

“They're like stalkers, baby. You could scorch the whole planet and find them crawl out from some cave afterwards. Besides, they've been making shit personal. I gotta go down there. Did you see what they did to my friggin' statues in Opportunity?”

He did. What a waste. “They were good statues. But Jack--”

“What?” Jack whirls around to face him, annoyance on his face. “You don't think I can take them or something?”

With his hip cocked like that and a gun against his thigh with single-minded murder in his mismatched eyes, Rhys could believe that Handsome Jack could take on all of Pandora and win. He can imagine it, Jack standing tall on a pile of bodies. Bodies Rhys had once called friends. 

But all of that is Hyperion propaganda. Charisma, the second weapon in Jack's repertoire. Persuading people that he's their saviour. That he's the only god they need. Rhys has built a whole new life around believing that. Now his two worlds are colliding and he can't remember which lies are better for him.

“Of course you can. Under most circumstances. But what if they've got something unexpected? They're cunning.”

Jack sighs and slides his hand up Rhys' tattooed arm, across his shoulder and behind his neck to squeeze gently. “Quit worrying, baby. I'm the _hero_. That means I always win. I've been going through info with Angel. She says now's the best time.”

Rhys' stomach flips. Angel never told Jack about him. She knew Rhys was with the resistance and she kept quiet. He could have been there to kill Jack in his sleep and she would have let it happen.

“Take me with you.”

His lover's thick eyebrows jump up in surprise. “You wanna go to Pandora?”

“I want to be with you.”

For a few moments Jack looks him up and down. He seems unsure. He folds his arms. “Only if you promise to stay back with the shuttle. These bandits are brutal. They'll need more punishment than that cute little shock stick you've got.”

Rhys promises and is told to grab a few supplies. He scurries off to grab a gun that he won't use, a pair of shades to protect against the Pandoran sun, a change of clothes in case they're longer than anticipated. He uses the clothes to wrap up the shards of eridium he's been stashing for emergencies. He doesn't want to explain to Jack why he has it. His secret has been kept too long to let it out without consequence. Hopefully he won't need to use it.

He still doesn't know what he intends to do when they get there.

Along the way, Jack holds him close with a strong arm casually around his shoulder. He jokes about what he intends to do to the Vault Hunters. He tries to decide what they'll do for dinner when they get back to Helios. He tells Rhys about an upgrade to a pistol that the development team will probably have sorted by the time they get back.

Resting his head against the man, breathing in his scent, Rhys knows whose side he is on. The realisation isn't a relief. 

They fly straight into a trap. The landing is rough, the pilot dead before they reach the ground. Jack gets them landed with guidance from Rhys' navigational tools, but they're under fire before they even get out of the shuttle. Rhys grabs a few shards of eridium and shoves them into his pocket unnoticed. Jack smashes a window with his elbow and shoves Rhys through it before diving after him, keeping the shuttle between them and their attackers for a few moments of cover.

“Baby, get to that building over there.” Into his communicator Jack snaps, “Angel! We are gonna have _words_ when I'm back!” Has he finally realised the lengths his daughter will go to in order to free herself from his chains? 

Jack leans around the edge of the shuttle and shoots. Rhys hears a yell of pain but can't tell who it was. Then Jack glares at him. “Rhys!”

“What?”

“Over there!” Jack points at the building he had nodded to. “Get there and stay there while I show these bandits why I'm the goddamn hero.”

Rhys doesn't have a plan. He never needed one in this life. So he obeys, feeling more like Hyperion property than siren spy. Someone shoots at him as he sprints but they miss and then he's in the stinking little hovel that won't shelter him for long. If they even want him dead, that is. He could still talk his way out of this, pretend he chose them when he came down here with Jack. Lilith won't believe him but the others might. 

“Don't shoot at my fucking boyfriend!” He hears Jack shout before another round of gunfire starts. Then Rhys hears the unmistakeable sound of a phaselock. He peers around the doorframe to see Maya has Jack suspended above the smashed up shuttle.

“Relax, we won't hurt Rhysie,” Lilith says, striding up to Jack with a smirk. “He's on our side.”

“Yeah fucking right,” Jack sneers with a certainty that Rhys doesn't deserve.

“Hey Rhys, get out here!”

He still doesn't know what to do. He steps out of the little house and walks towards them with slow, small steps. All eyes are on him. Jack can only just manage to meet his eyes from his paralysed position.

“You see,” Lilith gloats. “We sent him up ages back to infiltrate your data team. Worked out so much better than expected. Should have known you wouldn't be able to resist putting your hands all over a siren.”

Jack's eyes widen. He can't seem to say anything and Rhys isn't sure what has shocked him more – the betrayal or his true nature.

“I'm sorry,” Rhys tells him as the rest of the group crowd around, all clamouring to be the one to put a bullet in Jack's skull. They'll kill him here, execute him in the dirt like some random Psycho bandit. Not a fitting ending for any hero. Or god.

He reaches into his pocket and crunches the eridium with his cybernetic hand. The energy seeps into it and fires through his body. The tattoos on his left arm grow warm. 

“I'll do it,” Lilith says firmly, readying her gun. “Rhys, anything left to say to this piece of shit?”

Rhys steps forward.

_“Phaseshock.”_

Then he's surrounded by screams. Eventually the flash of lights and colour fade as he exhausts himself. He falls into the dark.

*

He wakes to mismatched eyes staring into his own. The air feels sterile, the temperature controlled. He wants to ask where they are, but there are too many other questions fighting for dominance.

Jack gets the first one in.

“So, a siren? For real?”

Rhys nods and finds it hurts as though his brain is rattling around in his head. 

“Hm. You must have found it pretty funny that I didn't figure it out.” Jack is dangerously relaxed about it. No doubt waiting to unleash his wrath.

“Not really. I mostly just wanted to tell you.”

“So why didn't ya, baby? Plenty of opportunities. The first time we met, for example.”

“I was working for the Resistance then.” He tries not to think of how their bodies twitched and spasmed under the onslaught of electricity.

“Oh yeah. That. You and Angel in it together?”

“No. She just wants to escape.”

At that, Jack narrows his eyes. For a long time he doesn't say anything, just leans back in his chair. Rhys looks around the room. Some sort of medical facility, but not on Helios.

“And you? What do you want? I'm struggling to figure that one out.”

Reaching out, Rhys is relieved when Jack lets him take his hand. “I want what you promised me. I want us to rule the galaxy like gods.”

“Shame you didn't stay conscious long enough to see what you did out there. You're already a god, baby.”

“But I was just a siren until I met you.”

And Jack doesn't magically trust him, but a smile slowly makes its way to his mouth before he kisses him. 

Another life starts, more authentic than any that came before.


End file.
